Tuesday, April 29, 2008

A Doorway That I Run To In The Night

I like to play photographer sometimes. I like just walking around the city, seeing some random something, letting it catch my camera's eye. Or better yet, taking pictures of the babies- they're such hams and do it up every time I say "cheese."

I have like five cameras (ridiculous, I know) and each one takes really cool pictures, even if sometimes I screw it up. Sometimes, though, I get it really, really right:

But taking pictures is my other obsession, right up there with writing. I can't even tell you how many photographs are scattered all over this place, or how many undeveloped film cartridges are by my bedside.

I just love the thought of having this visual record of a time and place, and then try and remember the feelings and memories behind them. Like the one with N in her favorite Clifford shirt... boy she wore that shirt to death, and if you look through all my photos of her during that time, nine times out of ten she's wearing that shirt.

Or the one of K in the park at Alfred. It was such a nice day and I didn't have to go to class so I took her to the park and just let her play while I took pictures. We lived in this really claustrophobic loft apartment at the time so it was just nice to be out of the house and to have nice weather (Western NYers, feel me on this one!)

My latest favorite photo is one I took with my phone at Reis the last time I was there with Lani:

See how the atmospheric light makes the table look purple? And how the flicker from the votive behind that one bottle of Stella makes you feel like you're at a poetry reading? This was the night I went to see Lani after she'd been mowed down by a cab and was on crutches. I didn't have any alcohol that night but I took a couple of hits from her ex's joint and thought to myself, "Wow, this is so not fun anymore. What am I even doing here? I should be home in bed with a good book."

I find this accidental, taken in a altered state moment photo kind of hypnotic.

And, by the way, it was my last time at Reis. It's been real, it's been fun, but now that the jukebox is gone from downstairs, there's no reason for me to keep going. I suck at pool, the guys are boring and corny and the music puts me to sleep.

It's time to find a new watering hole. I'll always have this last photo, though. I'll always have that.

*smooches...really sad that my favorite jukebox in the world is gone*------------and I'm really mad that I never got a picture of it.

Jaded Since 1975

Jaded In Print!!

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